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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646297">The Pleasure Of Touch</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arista_Holmes/pseuds/Arista_Holmes'>Arista_Holmes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Begging, Biting, Blood, Captive, Choking, Controlled Orgasm, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Fingering, NSFW, Stockholm Syndrome, book one ending spoilers, dub-con, dubcon, prisoner, touch starved</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:41:12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,855</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24646297</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arista_Holmes/pseuds/Arista_Holmes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Unit Bravo failed to stop Murphy from taking the detective. Months later, touch starved and alone, the Detective is desperate enough for any sensation that isn't pain, that she makes Murphy an enticing proposition. Written for a friend, potentially triggering, check the tags and read with caution.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Female Detective/Ethan Murphy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Pleasure Of Touch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Written for a friend, potentially triggering, check the tags and read with caution.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <span>Unit Bravo had failed to stop him escaping the warehouse with me, but that was months ago and I have long since surrendered to being Murphy's pet.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They will not find me now if they are even still looking, and if they did somehow manage to track us down nothing can stand in Murphy's path, not now he has an all but permanent supply of my blood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When he doesn't need to drink it, he stores it. Packing pints of the stuff away in blood bags. His sharp touch as he takes what he needs is the only time I feel anything against my skin, other than handcuffs and the rough stone that makes up the room I am chained within.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don't know when my fear of him changed to want and desire. Logic tells me it's because I'm craving touch. Any kind of touch. I miss the simple things, a handshake, a hug, the feel of the breeze against my face, but whatever the cause all that matters now is that I want him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All Murphy desires though is the blood in my veins. Maybe he suspects that if he unchains me, I will flee, but I know better than to try now. I cannot outrun him, and I have no way to overpower him, so I have to find a way to convince him that doing as I ask is in his best interest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Time for a top-up, Detective.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hear his voice, purring my title as though it still matters anywhere outside this room, and goosebumps rise across my skin. He has to be able to sense my desire, my want, but for once I do not approach him on his command, retreating instead and pressing my tattered shirt against the cold stone wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then come and get it.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I hear him snarl, my apparent defiance after being complicit for so long enraging him and the door swings open, slamming against the bars of my cell, but my eyes are on Murphy as he suddenly towers over me, my hands shaking.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His fingers press against my throat, high enough to tip my jaw up so my eyes meet his and I struggle for a moment to pull in enough breath to speak.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You're... a scientist, how... do you feel... about... an experiment?” I manage to rasp out, watching his eyes narrow suspiciously, as he glares down at me but his grip loosens slowly and I drag in a full breath.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I have no time for games, Detective, speak.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Don't you want to find out if freely given blood is more potent? If... if what I'm feeling when it's drunk changes it?” I ask, watching his frame go unnaturally still.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stretches a hand out to me, far slower than I am used to or expected, and his fingers slide across me, smoothly splaying out across my stomach, the surprisingly gentle touch from the vampire making me shudder, and his lips curl back on a snarl.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Do not </span>
  <em>
    <span>lie</span>
  </em>
  <span> to me, Detective. I can taste what you want on the very air around you,” he hisses and I can't stop the shudder across my skin or the way I am forced to swallow against the desire burning through my body.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He steps closer, hand against my stomach pressing me harder against the wall, and he lowers his lips to brush the shell of my ear, a shuddering breath escaping me at the feel of warm breath rasping from his throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Try again, Detective... What do you want?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>My heart is thrumming, pounding against my chest and I know he must be able to hear it, but there is nothing I can do to calm it. His touch against my stomach, lips against my ear, his breath against my neck.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I am consumed with want, so I gather every shred of desperation and lift my gaze to his, turning my head until our noses brush lightly, and force words past my suddenly parched throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” I plead, watching his eyes dilate at the word, “I... I want you.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand glides lower at my words, but his eyes never shift from mine. Long fingers slide beneath the waistband of my trousers, and I can do nothing but suck in a short gasp when I realise I've stopped breathing.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I bite my lip to stop a whimper of desperation as his fingertips slip over my clit, seeking further, deeper, sinking into the wet heat of my core, and I can no longer stay silent as my head drops back, body arching and neck exposed to him willingly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His movements are painfully slow, calculating, and his intense gaze catalogues my every movement. When he rubs almost feather-light against my clit again, my hand shoots up to grasp at his shoulder as I am reduced to a panting mess against the wall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Eyelids heavy, I watch him watch me, and there is a fire to his gaze I was not anticipating. The higher he winds me though, the less attention I can pay to anything other than his teasingly light touch. I can feel the blood rising in my cheeks, my heart pounding, hear my blood rushing at the sensations he's forcing my body to feel and then Murphy growls and I whimper, lost until his voice in me ear brings me crashing back down.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“If you come before I'm through with you, Detective, this will be the last little experiment we partake in.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A whine of desperation escapes me unbidden, and my fingers tighten in the fabric at his shoulder in urgently. He has left it almost too late to warn me, I'm leaning over the cliff edge eagerly, ready to fall, but I force my shifting hips to still and grind my head back against the cool stone wall in an attempt to ground myself.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As my mind casts around for something, anything, to distract me from his still shifting fingers between my legs, I realise Murphy has let me continue to cling to him. He has made no attempt at prying my clawing fingers from his shoulder, and when my wild eyes spin back to his I manage to spot the tail end of a smug smirk vanishing behind his mask.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He leans closer then, and something tells me it's an attempt to distract me from his own reactions further, but I'm too desire addled to care. He lets the tip of his nose trail across my cheek, a low rumbling growl emanating from somewhere deep in his chest, and I whimper again, hips shifting against his hand against my better judgement. The movement shooting sparks across my skin that makes me let loose a cry, everything in me balanced on a knife-edge as I remain desperate for the fall, and scrambling to hold myself back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I no longer thought I had such willpower left within me, and Murphy's dark laughter against my ear barely registers.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“When I sink my teeth into your throat, Detective, that's when you can come,” he purrs, and it's that moment I am truly lost.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please,” I beg, on a breathless gasp, muscles trembling as I try and resist the urge the writhe against his fingers, force the pleasure I know they can bring upon my own body. There is sweat across my skin, and the sting of desperate tears in my eyes as my voice catches on the words in my throat.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, please, oh please...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I'm begging and I don't care. Begging, but I'm not even sure for what. For him, for more, for less, for release...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Tell me what you want, Detective?” Murphy growls again, and a desperate sob escapes me. I can barely focus enough not to come, as he has demanded of me. To try and find the words to convey what I want, my mind splits and sparkles, cracking under the strain and I truly don't know if I can stop myself for much longer, and yet if I want this electric pleasure again I must... I must...</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Bite me, take my blood, feed, please just... anything, everything, just let me...”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You want to come, Detective?” the vampire at my ear all but hisses, his delight at this new control over me is palpable, even over my whine of agreement, my hips trembling as they fight me to buck against him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His free hand tangling in my hair, and wrenching my head to the side draws a startled cry from my throat, the stinging pain against my scalp barely noticeable through the haze of pleasure my mind is soaked in, but his words ring through me as clear as a bell.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Then do so,” he growls, voice deepening and the sharp sting of fangs pressing into my skin has my body arching up from the wall, pressing against him. My every nerve is so hyper-aware that I can feel the moment my flesh gives way beneath his bite, sliding into me as smoothly as his fingers continue to glide through the sopping mess of my throbbing sex.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I can't tell if I'm screaming or sobbing as my orgasm explodes across my mind, but I am lost in the maelstrom of emotions he's pulled from me, and if the thick groan from Murphy is anything to go by then the pleasure has enriched my blood.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I don't care, beyond the fact it might entice him to repeat the process, but that thought is smothered by the second wave of desire that crashes over me when I slowly begin to come back to myself, to feel his fingers still pressing roughly against me, drawing another cry and orgasm from my shuddering frame, both hands clinging and fisting against his shoulders as every muscle and nerve shakes and trembles, weak and wrung out.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He pulls back slowly, tongue lathing over the fresh bite, and the almost soft touch making me shudder in remembered pleasure.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hands are firm as they withdraw from my hair and pants, and pull my own grasping fingers from his shoulders, leaving me leaning against the stone wall. With nothing to hold me up beyond my still trembling legs, I allow myself to slide slowly to the floor, but my eyes never leave Murphy's, and he watches me drop with an intenseness that is unprecedented. His breathing just a fraction too hard and my heart begins pounding once more when his tongue snakes out to lap up a tiny droplet of my blood from the corner of his mouth.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It seems, Detective, that some of your ideas on experimentation may hold merit.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He purrs, and it takes my fogged up mind a moment to realise what he's implying. When I do, my breath catches, and eyes widen but Murphy offers me nothing more than a smirk as he takes a single smooth step back.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Until next time, Detective.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>I am, once again, left alone in the dark, but this time at least I have a tiny glimmer of hope in my future, that I may not have to spend the entire rest of my life without the simple pleasure of touch.</span>
</p>
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